


The Other Side of the Drabble

by VoidofRoses



Series: The Other Side of the Coin [1]
Category: Dragons: Riders of Berk (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (2010)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-10 11:18:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidofRoses/pseuds/VoidofRoses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles based on Hiccup's life as an Outcast, starting from babyhood and continuing on through to teenagedom. Will also include drabbles of things that happened in the fic itself and alternate universes of things that had or haven't occurred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was the sounds of wailing that brought it to their attention.

It had just been a routine patrol to start with. Two Outcasts wandering around the southern shores of the island, making sure nothing had shown up from the storm the night before. Gromer had heard it first, turning around as he held his weapon up, eyebrow raising as he started moving away from Sigurd, tilting his head. It was a sound that was foreign to Outcast Island, for there were no female warriors, and certainly no babies, but still Gromer's curiosity got the better of him. Kneeling down by the water's edge, he pushed aside the dead reeds with his spear before he found himself staring down at it.

The child couldn't have been more than a few days old, pale as anything and dark wisps of hair stuck to the sides of its head, laying in a small wicker basket. The wailing stopped and for a minute Gromer swore it was dead before there was a gurgle and it reached up, grabbing the stick of his spear where it was hanging over its head. The movement made him fall back as he realized there was only one reason why there would be a child on the shores of Outcast Island.

It was a hiccup.

The smallness of its body was soon apparent to the Outcast warrior's eyes as it stared up at him with a wide green gaze, curiosity clear on its face as it stuck its fingers into its mouth. Gromer stared back at it before he turned his head, calling out for his patrol partner. "Sig, you better come see this!"

"What is it?" the older warrior snapped, walking over to where Gromer was sitting on his ass on the bank of the island, but his eyes widened just as Gromer's had when he laid eyes on the baby. "That's a hiccup..."

"Bad luck it is." Gromer pushed himself up and dusted himself off, looking down at the child before turning to Sigurd, looking more than a little helpless. "What do we do with it?"

Sigurd snorted a bit as he sheathed his weapon and knelt, picking the child up in his arms. The baby shivered before it sneezed, and Sigurd winced as its snot landed in his beard. "We take it to the chief. He'll know what to do."

\---------------------------------------------

Alvin lifted the baby up in the air after it was handed to him, turning it around. Not many babies washed up on his island, and certainly no hiccups. He made a face as the two men who brought it in, raising an eyebrow. "Well, what do you expect me to do about it?"

"Well, we weren't sure what to do with it, sir," the younger one, Gromer or something, replied, sounding a little nervous as he tapped his fingers together in front of him.

The chief weighed the baby in his hands, earning a gurgling coo from it as the boy grabbed onto one of his fingers. He chuckled, pulling the baby against his chest. "You like that, eh boy?" Wide green eyes stared up at him as the boy pulled a thick finger into his mouth, gnawing on it with his gummy maw as Alvin considered what to do with it. He frowned, tilting his head as he looked at the boy before glancing to his lieutenant. "Savage, who do we know around the Archipelago who has eyes like this boy's?"

Savage closed the distance between them, leaning forward to examine the boy before a swipe to his beard was made and he pulled his head away, blinking down at the child. "If memory serves, I do believe they look remarkably like Valhallarama Haddock's, sir."

He let out a squeak as Alvin tucked the boy into one arm, placing his free hand on his hip. "Are you telling me I have the child of Stoick and Valhallarama in me hands?"

"Possibly! Er, well, I can think of no one eyes with eyes as green, and the boy's hair colour has a striking similarity to Stoick's."

The three Outcasts waited for their chief to make a decision as he pulled the boy away from the crook of his arm, watching him curl up easily in his hands with a yawn. A menacing smirk crossed Alvin's face, splitting his mouth as he started chuckling. "What do we say about things that cross into our waters, boys?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at his men.

"That they're ours by right?"

"Exactly. The boy's already been outcast from his tribe. Imagine the look on Stoick's face when he's all grown up and has him pinned, ready to kill him." Alvin lifted the sleeping boy up to examine him before he grinned. "I think I'll keep him."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set at the end of chapter sixteen

Hiccup was livid, seething in a rage that made it almost impossible to think, moreso than when he had been humiliated in front of his tribe by Astrid. Lowering Fenrir's head to the floor of the arena, he stood from where he knelt, pulling his axe from his back. His hand shifted around the hilt of his weapon, gripping it in a hold that turned his knuckles white before he tossed it up into the air once, catching it after it fell back down to him.

Something inside of him was screaming to be let out, to avenge the monster - no, _dragon_ \- that had somehow gotten under his skin in his last few weeks on Berk. She was his. He might not have liked being bonded to her at first but she was still his. His dragon, his Nadder. Alvin had always killed or gotten rid of things that he became attached to before, it shouldn't have mattered like it did, but this was different.

And he saw red.

Outcast warriors stepped out of his way as he stalked from the kill arena, shoving one aside as whoever it was asked what they should do with the body. As far as he was concerned, there would be two bodies tonight. Hiccup gritted his teeth, grinding them as he thought back on his first flight, the way Fenrir had crept closer to him each night until he'd allowed her to sleep nestled around him, how he'd kept waking up draped over her. Memory after memory flashed through his mind, clouding his vision until he slammed the doors of the great hall open, chest heaving and he screamed out in rage.

" _Father_!" All activity in the hall stopped, the voices died down. Alvin turned away from where he was discussing something with Savage and looked at the boy he'd raised, an eyebrow lifting. Hiccup charged in like a rampaging bull, axe pulled back and ready to strike before he felt a fist hit him in the gut. Hiccup coughed out air, free hand wrapping around the wrist and staring up at Alvin. "Why?"

"Because you were getting weak." Alvin quirked his lips into a smug smirk, taking hold of his son's chainmail and lifting him off the ground, easily throwing him away, watching Hiccup regain his footing easily as he rolled his shoulders, cracking his knuckles. "We cut off things that make us weak in the Outcast tribe. Or have you forgotten that in just three weeks on Berk?"

"She was mine." Hiccup rearranged his grip on his axe, shoulders stiffening as he regained his footing. His heart was beating fast in his chest and out the corner of his eye he saw the other Outcasts in the room leave. They knew what was going on. "You killed her!"

" _It_. I killed _it_ , boy. Dragons are monsters."

"She had her own personality! She _felt_ things. She...she _cared_ about me!" The hit came before Hiccup could bring his axe up to defend himself, the strength behind it enough to make him stumble to the side. Using the force of the blow, he spun around, keeping a tight grip on his axe as he swung it at the man who had raised him. A hand came up and grabbed the hilt above his, drawing him to Alvin so they were face to face. "She wasn't a monster."

"You're delusional," Alvin purred, wrenching the axe from Hiccup's hand and kicking the teen away from him. Closing the distance, he started to circle his heir, tossing the axe up and down. "The one you should be blaming for this loss isn't me. The dragon conqueror put you in this position. She made you _care_ about something that can't feel anything."

"Stop it," Hiccup hissed out, clamping his hands over his ears. "I'm not listening to you anymore." 

"You have no chance against me, boy."

"I can damn well try."


	3. Chapter 3

The Terrible Terror was one of the smallest dragons, but a fighter at heart. It squirmed around in his hands, little legs kicking up in the air wildly as it struggled against him. Hiccup held its weight down with his body - being six years old and small as he was, it wasn't too hard for him to straddle the Terror's stomach, hunting knife in the hand that wasn't clamped around the little dragon's mouth.

He'd killed rats before. Big ones that crawled out of the rocky walls of the mead hall in search of food. Rats were easy to kill. They bit sometimes but it was easier to avoid than dragon fire. Smoke filtered out of the sides of the Terror's mouth, flames extinguished with nowhere to go but be inhaled back into the dragon's lungs.

The tip of Hiccup's hunting knife struck the center of the Terror's neck and it struggled wildly, bucking in an attempt to throw the boy off it but Hiccup was more stubborn, clamping his legs around the small body. The hunting knife dug into the scales, flesh tearing as the thin layer of protective armor gave way under persistent digging. Blood squirted up and Hiccup winced as it hit his cheek under his eye, claws catching at the arm connected to the hand holding its mouth shut. The Terror lashed around underneath him, before the body stopped moving and the claws dropped from his arm, leaving deep gashes underneath the torn cloth of his long sleeved shirt.

Hiccup sucked in a breath as he realized the tiny dragon had stopped moving, hand hesitating before he pulled it away. Smoke puffed up from its mouth once, but that was all. Staring down at the Terror, he giggled a little to himself. "I-I did it...yes, I did it!" Throwing his hands up into the air with a joyful whoop, Hiccup lowered his hand to wipe the blood on his face off, only succeeding in smearing it across his cheek the harder he tried. Eventually he gave up, instead focusing on snapping the spine in the neck and hacking off the last bit of sinew and flesh keeping the head attached to the body.

He felt exhilarated, his chest bursting with excitement and the heedy rush of the hunt. His first kill. Well, his first _dragon_ kill, but it was more important than the rats. Wiping his hunting knife along his tunic, Hiccup stood and picked up the head with one hand, picking up the body by a leg and slinging it over his shoulder before he began to run back to the stronghold, scrambling over rocks and sliding down small hills. It was starting to get dark, storm clouds hanging overhead. There would be no raid tonight, but there was always wild dragons hanging around the rocks and the skies. He had to scamper back before one mistook him for a mouse or something.

A few warriors greeted him along the way on his way back to the mead hall, spotting the dragon corpse slung over his shoulder and blood smeared across his face and nudged at each other with grins on their faces. Hiccup had only started his training last year - they all remembered the disaster in the kill ring when he'd almost gotten killed. To see him with a corpse meant that it was beginning to sink in.

Alvin was standing by the hearth discussing things with Savage when the door to the mead hall opened, casting a glance out the corner of his eye as the weedy boy tumbled into the room, spinning a little before he caught himself and straightened up. He looked excited about something, and when Alvin caught sight of the blood covering one of the boy's cheeks, he raised an eyebrow, placing his hands on his hips. "What've you got there, boy?"

Hiccup came to a stop in front of him, gasping for breath before he beamed up at him, showing him the head of the Terror that he'd killed and pulled the body off from around his shoulder, holding it up as well, looking hopeful. "I...I did it, father. I killed one! I mean I know it's a Terrible Terror and they're not really all that dangerous..."

His rambling was cut off as the Outcast chief laughed, leaning down to ruffle his son's hair before he took the body to inspect the cut at the neck. "A bit messy, but we can work on that." Hiccup's smile couldn't grow wider at the praise, wide green eyes gleaming as Alvin looked back down at him, handing the corpse off to Savage before lifting the six year old into the air easily. "My boy's already growing into a killer. Those beasts won't stand a chance once yer fully grown." Hiccup giggled, the head clutched between his hands as he was set back down on the floor of the mead hall, nudged with a large hand. "Go wash up. Ya got dragon blood all over yer face, kiddo." Taking the head from his tiny fists, Alvin handed it off to Savage as well before taking the corpse back. "See this mounted. Kid needs to start his trophy wall."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, father."

Watching Hiccup drag Savage off in the direction of his room, babbling happily, Alvin grinned to himself as he weighed the Terror's body in his hands, eyes dark as he looked at it. Yes, they could work on it. Soon, Hiccup would be ready to start killing bigger things.

Like people.


End file.
